The Outlet
by Windsurf
Summary: Danny follows Jazz's advice and writes a journal about the problems he experiences, just the mundane ones that are the cherry on his problem sundae that has a vastly unhealthy number of calories.  Prepare for a good  bad dose of teenage angst.  3 chapters
1. Chapter 1

Dear Journal,

I am getting really tired of this.

No, like, seriously, I've been dealing with this for a while now, and I'm at my breaking point. I don't know if it's me, if it's my parents, if it's because I'm a teenager, or because of the stresses of high school, or because…

I've run out of reasons, but there are probably more out there.

The teenager idea popped up first because it seems most viable. I mean, the stereotypical teen image is a rebel *cough*PUNK*cough who goes against his parents, who has a moody, bad attitude, who does whatever he wants just because.

Check all the above.

I've effectively just told my parents to buzz off (more politely than that) when they kept telling me to do something that I felt was not the best course of action.

I've demolished plans because I didn't feel like following them. I have to be in the mood to do something, else it'll a, not get done, or b, be a complete failure.

I've become very reclusive. Being holed up in my study for years with little interaction with anyone, even my best friends Sam and Tucker, was not the best thing for me, because while I am successful in all that I pursue, my social skills fail. I'm diplomatic, true, and I can be a good friend. But there comes a point at an unreasonably soon time…when I don't want to be around anyone anymore. I now recognize a need to be in that reclusive study, to be completely alone without anyone but my thoughts. I don't even get on Facebook.

I've come to hate repetition. Don't repeat things to me without just cause. I get very frustrated when someone keeps asking me the same question, unless they've forgotten the answer. That exception only holds when they've forgotten the answer once, maybe twice. Not five times. Not when I've emphatically said my answer several times. I get irritated when someone says something and I nod affirmatively in plain sight or 'mm-hmm' in obvious agreement and they say 'huh?' like I didn't respond or like I'm being difficult by not giving an answer. I get impatient when someone says a line, an order, a sentence, a word, anything over and over again to me because the halfa here is not deaf. Despite common belief, I always listen. I just don't always do.

I've been told that as a child, I was incredibly stubborn. That's probably still true, although I do break more easily now.

There's only one discrepancy I see: I do things because I believe in them.

I do what I think is right. I've got a reason. So will they stop badgering and nagging me mercilessly?

That's the thing that's getting to me. Not being able to do what I think is right and carry out my own actions as I see fit.

It's my life. I'm the one going through school, living as a teenager in this day and age. I'm the one meeting the people, in direct contact with the situations. I understand what's happening, and how I should react.

Not all the time. I'm not claiming to know everything. I'm not saying that I'll always do the right or best thing.

But I have a good hand on it. I want to make my own decisions. I am willing to make mistakes and to take responsibility regardless of whether or not there are ramifications.

So let me.

The time of guidance is over. I will ask for it if I don't know what to do, but I've already been raised.

Am I completely independent? No. A mixture of this society's disregards for teenagers and the government's laws curb my independence.

But I'm older now. I rationalize. I have opinions on matters and a sense of justice. I'm not saying a younger child doesn't; mine's just more developed. The "do it because I said so and I think it's right" that people say is not good enough for me anymore. I will "do it because _I_ think it's right."

They've claimed they want to be friends with me when I grow up and they no longer wield the 'parental influence,' as I call it. They don't realize they always will; that's why I cave in to them.

That's why this 'friendship' is going to be hard to work out. In a friendship, the two sides are equal. One doesn't hold more control than the other. Neither side is bossy, for lack of a better word.

You've got to stop. Stop pushing your beliefs and opinions on me. I do not agree with all of them, I do not appreciate it, and it hurts to tell you so.

Can you please, just stop?

-Danny


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Journal,

Just a few minutes ago, my mom told me that if you believe in something, it is true.

"If you believe you're stupid, then you are.

"If you doubt yourself, then you'll fail.

"That's the wrong attitude."

That was her response to the pessimistic answer I gave her. I was preparing for the worst. I believe I did better, but just in case.

I would like to note the fact that those two examples are both negative, and they were a good representation of all her blasted scientific statements to me:

"You never get your projects done in the time you say you will.

"The data says that you don't follow through with your plans.

"Evidence shows that you don't…"

And at the end of each sentence, there's this unsaid question that I always hear:

_Why should this time be different?_

I don't have an answer. I don't know. But I do know that without any chances, it won't ever change.

I need that chance. I don't need those doubts or that negative logic; it's not helping. It's hurting.

So stop doing it! You just told me to be positive!

And you can't rely on data, it's not always true. I'm a scientific impossibility according to your data (not that I'll ever tell you this). Things happen. You've got to let them. You've got to give them a chance.

I used to believe I could fix these things and break those habits. I still do, I think. I hope.

-Danny


	3. Chapter 3

**Yes! Last chapter! :)**

Dear Journal,

I don't feel like smiling anymore. I really don't; there's no reason to.

I don't have a reason to frown or scowl, either. I'm not sad, or angry.

I'm just not happy, either.

Of course, I keep on smiling. It's so automatic; someone looks at me, and I act the way I used to truly be, like nothing's wrong and I haven't changed. Part of it's because I don't want to answer any questions. Part of it is because I don't want to be accused of anything.

I used to smile all the time. I wasn't on top of anything really, but I was happy. I sent a smile towards everyone who looked my way (excluding enemies, of course). It would just look too weird if I suddenly walked around with Sam's Goth poker-face, same as it would look weird to see Sam wearing the smile I show all the time. People would start asking questions, and I would be stuck in the middle of it, something that I really don't want right now.

I'm not in the mood for it.

I'm sure that if my parents could see what mood I'm in, they would accuse me of sulking. Which I'm not. I have the capacity to feel multiple emotions, thanks, not just happiness. Although right now, I'm basically empathetic; I'm not really feeling anything. Well, I do, but I've pushed all those emotions aside for now. They can boil around in my subconsciousness until I figure them out.

And in order to figure them out, I need to stop adding new ones. Irritation at having to explain myself to others, for one. Annoyance bordering on anger at being dismissed and misunderstood, for two. Actually, any type of social interaction would probably bring me some form of aggravation.

So I keep acting, shoving people away from me and towards my fake, although I would prefer it if I didn't have to block them with a fake. If I could just tell them 'buzz off until I'm done fixing myself.'

At the moment, if I am feeling anything, then I am feeling reclusive. Don't try to help me. I need to just let it run its course and take its time until I figure things out and get some reasons. Any type of social interaction would be a bad reason, because it would invariably end with a misunderstanding, stubbornness, yelling, and a feeling that I don't want: sadness.

Wait for me to find a reason to be happy like I was before.

-Danny


End file.
